


four in the forest

by Inkstained_Dreamer



Series: This Can't End Well [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Camping, Curufin is very much a Confused Aro, Gen, Huan is just quietly suffering, Lúthien has some hints of eldritch, Neurodivergent Lúthien, and Celegorm is a misguided flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkstained_Dreamer/pseuds/Inkstained_Dreamer
Summary: Celegorm and Curufin set out to search for Finrod. On the way, they gain an unexpected ally.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Curufin | Curufinwë, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Huan, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Lúthien Tinúviel, Curufin & Lúthien Tinúviel
Series: This Can't End Well [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116659
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	four in the forest

“D’you think we’re close yet?” Curufin directed his question at his brother’s back. 

Celegorm sighed. “Gods, Curvo, come on. They’ve got a decent head start on us, and besides, we’ve been riding for, what, half a day? We’re not going to catch up with them right away.”

Curufin urged his horse forward until he was at Celegorm’s side. “And you’re sure Huan knows what he’s doing? He won’t, I don’t know, run off after a squirrel or something?”

Celegorm glared at him. “Of course he won’t! What kind of dog do you think he is?! I’d trust Huan to find Finrod if we were riding through Anfauglith itself.”

“Fine.” Curufin fell back again, letting the reins go slack in his hands. He’d never been a fan of riding, and he could already feel the soreness setting in. His pack jolted against his back with every movement of the horse’s body. He indulged himself in one private sigh. Hopefully this would all be worth it in the end. No, not hopefully, definitely. He was doing the right thing, for once, and he could deal with achy legs for his friend. 

He half-imagined he could feel the circlet digging into his back, through the layers of cloth he’d wrapped carefully around it. It seemed to grow lighter with each step they took towards Finrod. He’d give it back. He’d apologize. Everything would go back to the way it had been before. And if Finrod still wanted to go with Beren, it would be fine. Curufin would go too, and. . .well, he’d figure out what he’d do about the Silmaril when they got there. Beren was only human. He’d probably give up long before they reached Angband. And  _ then _ , he could bring Finrod home, proving to Nargothrond that he wasn’t just another scheming kinslayer. Celebrimbor would forgive him, and everything would be all right. 

Curufin was jolted from his pleasant daydreams by nearly riding into Celegorm, who had stopped directly in front of him, tense and listening.

“What? What’s going on?” Curufin asked anxiously.

Celegorm held up a hand to shush him. “Be quiet, Curvo!”

In one fluid motion, Celegorm dismounted and notched an arrow to his bow. Huan stood at his side, his amber eyes intent on a cluster of bushes to the left of their path. 

Something was rustling among the leaves. Curufin could hear the sound of footsteps and branches cracking. Huan growled softly. 

“Tyelko. . .?”

“ _ Shut up! _ ” Celegorm hissed, slowly approaching the bushes. 

Curufin reached down and loosened one of his knives in its sheath. His horse danced nervously in place. 

The rustling the bushes came to an abrupt halt, as if whatever--or whoever--was in there had grown wary. Celegorm, his teeth clenched, drew his bowstring taut, aiming into the center of the thicket.

“We know you’re in there,” he declared. “Come out or I shoot.”

Silence met his words. The only movement in the bushes came from the wind. Huan slowly began stalking forwards. 

“Go, boy,” Celegorm whispered, and Huan leaped into the air with a ringing bark and crashed into the leafy tangle. 

“I thought you said you were going to shoot them,” Curufin remarked.

“Don’t take everything so literally,” Celegorm grunted. “I’d rather not start our journey with murder. Now, let me focus.”

Curufin watched the proceedings with interest. He could hear two shapes crashing through the branches, Huan baying without pause. 

With an explosion of leaves, someone stumbled out of the thicket, Huan’s teeth locked in their trailing cloak. 

“Let me GO!” the unknown person yelled in Sindarin, endeavoring to yank their cloak from Huan’s jaws. “Come ON, you stupid dog!” With a tremendous pull, the elf--for it was an elf, Curufin ascertained--jerked free and landed hard on the ground, panting. Celegorm was by them in an instant, his arrow trained at their forehead.

Pushing choppy, short hair out of their face, Huan’s prey looked up, fixing angry violet-blue eyes on Celegorm and Curufin. 

“Let that arrow fly,” she snarled, in a voice that wouldn't've sounded out of place commanding armies, “And I will peel your skin from your bones and throw them to the wolves.” 

“That isn’t actually the first time I’ve heard that threat,” Celegorm said coolly. 

The woman glared up at him. “Well, if you go around all the time pointing arrows at people, I’m not surprised you’ve garnered some angry responses.”

To Curufin’s surprise, Celegorm threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, I like you already.” 

“Then kindly stop aiming an arrow at my head.”

Celegorm let the bowstring go slack and smiled. 

“So, who are you?”

The woman stood up, unfolding her thin, angular frame. “You first.”

Curufin decided it was time for him to step in. He swung himself down from the saddle and approached the woman.

“I’m Curufin. This is my brother, Celegorm. We come from Nargothrond,” he said in Sindarin, pasting a smile onto his face.

The woman tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing out here, if not simply pointing arrows at travelers?”

Curufin’s smile didn’t waver. “We’re. . .looking for someone. A friend.” 

The woman twitched. “Huh. Me too. What a coincidence. Tell me, have either of you seen a very short man with hair the color of strong tea? He’s typically dirty, and he has a Northern accent?” 

Curufin found that his smile was in jeopardy, but he exerted a valiant effort and shored it up. “Oh, er, yes. I mean, a few days ago. He came to Nargothrond.”

The woman practically leaped at Curufin and proceeded to loom over him. She was about two heads taller than he was. He had to tilt his head back to look into her face.

“Where is he?!” 

Celegorm stepped between them, smiling in his easy way. “Hold on there, lady. You still haven’t told us who you are.”

The woman leveled Celegorm with her implaccable gaze. Her eyes glittered. “Ask your brother. He knows.” 

Celegorm turned to look at Curufin. “Enlighten me.”

“You’re Lúthien, Thingol’s daughter,” he said to the woman. “Right?”

She nodded. “Yes. I am Lúthien of Doriath, daughter of  _ Melian _ and Thingol.” Her mouth quirked in a smile. “I see my fame has preceded me.”

“Lúthien, Lúthien. . .” Celegorm mused. “Oh, yeah! You’re that weird girl from Doriath! I remember now. The half-maia.”

Lúthien looked over at Curufin and gestured to Celegorm. “Is he always like this?”

“Pretty much. You get used to it.” 

“So, Lúthien from Doriath,” Celegorm interjected, “Would you care to travel with us? Since we seem to have the same destination in mind?”

Lúthien shrugged slightly. “All right. I’m going to warn you now, though, nobody likes me. Except Beren. And my parents.”

Celegorm smiled winningly. “ _ I  _ like you.”

“With all due respect, you’ve known me for five minutes.”

“Oh, I’m a wonderful judge of character. Aren’t I, Curvo?”

“Not rea--ouch!” Celegorm’s elbow jabbed into his side. “What the fuck, Tyelko?! What was that?”

“ _ Aren’t I a good judge of character, Curvo _ ?” Celegorm repeated, his smile seeming rather like a predator’s baring of teeth. 

“Uh, sure,” Curufin said. He’d never understand his brother’s little games. What did it matter whether Lúthien thought he was a good judge of character or not?

Lúthien looked back and forth between them, her head moving in birdlike twitches. “You two are pretty weird yourselves, you know that?”

Curufin sighed. “Let’s just keep going. We’ve got to find Finrod.”

“And Beren,” Lúthien added.

“And Beren,” Celegorm agreed, smiling at Lúthien again.

~ ~ ~

As evening fell on the third day of travel, and they’d still found nothing, Curufin flopped dejectedly down on his blanket. 

“Tyelko, are you absolutely, positively sure that you and Huan know what we’re doing? Huan’s seemed peaky these past few days, you know. Maybe his nose is stuffed up.”

Celegorm airily waved a hand and added a few more twigs to their fire. “Of course we’re going the right way. Beren and Finrod are just moving fast, that’s all. Lúthien, do you want some of this?” He waved a strip of dried meat.

Lúthien wrinkled her nose. “No. I prefer to hunt for myself. I’ll be back.” 

She got up and melted into the shadows at the edge of the clearing. Celegorm watched her go, thoughtfully chewing. His eyes glittered in the firelight. 

Curufin sat up. “Why do you stare at her like that?”

Celegorm gave him a sunny smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I don’t stare. I’m just trying to be friendly.” He tossed Huan a piece of jerky.

Curufin shook his head. “Sometimes I don’t understand you.”

“Likewise.”

There was a pause. Curufin listened to a nightingale singing in the branches. The fire popped and crackled.

“You know,” Celegorm said quietly. “Her father has got. . .quite a lot of soldiers under his command. More than Nargothrond. More than we do, certainly.”

“What of it?”

“Finrod is going to Angband with only eleven companions. More soldiers would help. You could get that. You could save him. ”

Curufin pushed himself fully upright. “And what does this have to do with Lúthien? Are you suggesting we, I don’t know, kidna--”

“What about me?” Lúthien said, emerging from the trees. Blood was smeared about her mouth, and a few stray feathers were caught in her short hair. She delicately wiped the red smudges away when she noticed Curufin’s stare and sat down beside him.

Celegorm grinned up at her. “Only good things.”

Lúthien fixed him with her unfocused gaze. “How nice. But all the same, don’t talk about me behind my back, if you please.”

Celegorm tossed his hair. “I guess I’ll just have to tell you you’re beautiful to your face then.”

A sudden suspicion dug its claws into Curufin’s gut. No. No, Celegorm couldn’t be. . .could he? He always had been quick to fall into new infatuations. Curufin lay down, watching Lúthien and Celegorm through half-closed eyes. 

Yes, Celegorm was definitely putting on a show. His hair gleamed in the firelight. He’d left it unbound; it rippled every time he moved his head. And he moved his head quite a lot, leaning close to Lúthien, pulling back to laugh, his lips cherry red in the light. He was beautiful, and he knew it. He was displaying himself. Preening. Curufin held in a groan. He just didn’t understand any of this. The banter, the compliments, the half-veiled looks. It was like trying to read a language he’d never been taught.

He shifted his gaze to Lúthien. Her face was blank, but he could see an undercurrent of discomfort, maybe even fear, in the tense way she held her shoulders. The hand that rested on Huan’s head trembled ever so slightly. Surely Celegorm could see that. . .

Well, maybe he was just too wrapped up in himself to realize that the object of his attentions was obviously uncomfortable. With an inward sigh, Curufin sat up, affecting a yawn.

“It’s getting late. You should go to sleep.”

Lúthien nodded. “You’re right. We can talk tomorrow. Good night.”

Without another word, she curled up in her cloak, her face hidden in its folds. Celegorm watched her for a moment, and then, with a shrug, leaned himself against Huan’s broad back and closed his eyes.

Curufin pillowed his head on his arms and tried to clear his mind. Breathe in. Celegorm obviously wouldn’t have any bad intentions concerning Lúthien. He wasn’t like that. Arrogant, flirtatious, obscenely jaunty, yes. But not. . . _ that.  _ Breathe out. He was getting closer to Finrod every day. Soon everything would be back to normal. Breathe in. Why had Celegorm said that about Thingol’s army? Breathe out. Hopefully he wouldn’t have another dream tonight. He’d seen his father in the last one. 

A sudden tap on his arm jerked him out of his half-asleep daze of worry. He lifted his head, looking around. Celegorm and Lúthien both were lying still. He could hear Celegorm snoring. 

But when he had halfheartedly chalked the feeling up to anxiety and made to lie down again, something white fluttering on the ground next to his elbow caught his attention. He picked it up, feeling the crackle of parchment beneath his fingers. Carefully unfolding it and bending closer to the last embers of the fire, he could dimly make out two words, written in Sindarin with what appeared to be charcoal. 

_ Thank you.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the second installment of this. I had a little trouble with flow, but I hope it turned out okay. :)


End file.
